


Broken Bow

by sleepismyfriend



Series: Times Like These [1]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-27
Updated: 2009-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepismyfriend/pseuds/sleepismyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the day, their loss is great, and their need for each other is even greater. (Post-Maelstrom)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Bow

**Author's Note:**

> _"…when you're ready to give, that's when you're in love." – Mary McDonnell_

As soon as her heels touch the outer wing of the Raptor, she immediately steps down and doesn't wait for her guards to disembark before she heads across the hanger. About halfway through Galactica's main corridors, she picks up her pace.

_Guards are a rather moot point on a military-operated Battlestar anyway,_ she thinks irrationally.

It takes a minute before she finally stands in front of his hatch, thinking for only a split second about not entering before she reaches for the wheel. The dim light hits her eyes as she steps inside only to see his model ship lying on the floor, smashed but not completely broken. She quietly shuts the hatch behind her, spinning the wheel, as she doesn't want them to be disturbed by anyone.

She walks further into his cabin, shedding her outer jacket at the table before she steps carefully out of her heels. Pulling the tails of her pink buttoned down shirt from her pants, she runs a hand absently through her hair. One hour, fourteen minutes, and exactly thirty seconds have passed since the message arrived at Colonial One, and she's only had the short Raptor ride over to prepare.

A half step forward and one of her feet just barely touch the corners of a book. Reaching down, she picks the book up, examines it for a second, and carefully sets it back on the bookshelf without another thought until she sees another one. The destruction of the room is evident, from the model ship to the books to the contents of now empty desk lying on the floor.

He's sitting at the desk, without his uniform jacket, his head in his hands. She eyes the floor around him as well as the half-empty bottle sitting next to one of his arms, and she knows what he's been doing. Walking to the desk and then around it to step behind him, she reaches over his head to the bottle of Tyrol's brew, and picks it up.

"Don't." His hand grips her wrist tight as she holds the bottle and they catch each other eye.

"You don't need this." She whispers as Bill loosens his hold on her. She straightens up, tightens a lid around the bottle, and takes it over to the small cabinet, tucking it inside with the rest of his stash. _He's had enough,_ she thinks. Laura then turns, bending down to round up the stray reports and folders that littered the floor. Making a nice stack, she sets them on the desk knowing full well that they'll have to be reorganized later.

Laura picks up the nearby wastebasket sitting near his desk and begins throwing random things into it. Making satisfactory progress, she steps over to where his ship lays, setting the wastebasket down and pausing as if waiting for him to say something as she shoots a look over to him.

"It doesn't matter," he says quietly.

"Bill--" She turns her attention back sighs with her back to him, wiping away the tears in her eyes that aren't big enough yet to fall. She's had a long day, and the wiping only reminds her of the rest she hasn't had, and probably won't get enough of anytime soon.

"Leave it." He huffs, the alcohol on his brain and lump in his chest causing a great deal of stress on his head. Laura picks up the ship, holding it between both of her hands as she sits it in the nearby chair. Her hands on her hips, she stares at it for another second before picking up a few more pieces and setting the wastebasket down and walking over to him.

"You need sleep." Laura stands next to him. She eyes the circles in his eyes, and knows from the look in them that he's no good to anyone in the shape that he's in now.

"Yeah." Bill sighs.

"It wasn't a request," Laura says, tilted her head slightly as she holds her hand out. He looks up at her for a moment, pausing to see if she'll pull her hand back.

When she doesn't, he reaches out, and she helps him stand. As their hands pull apart, his eyes look into hers. She sees that the normal barriers that hold him together aren't in place, and the space between them is very small. His hand wraps around her slender neck, and with only one single second to acknowledge each other, he pulls her to him.

His lips collide with hers, breaking her of any serious train of thought as the salt of his tears mingles with the taste of alcohol across the sides of her mouth. His hands move, holding her elbows lightly as her arms fall naturally against his chest. She lets him lead, giving him the control he needs as she feels him gently pull her closer and her palms go flat.

"Laura--" His breath is warm in her ear, his cheek against hers as they catch their breath. He nuzzles her neck, his lips gently suckling downward without leaving any kind of mark. Laura's thoughts try to focus, resisting the urge to simply crook her face into his neck after kissing him senseless. His hands slide down her arms and she instantly entwines her fingers into his, squeezing when she thinks he's going to let go.

"I'm right here." Her voice nearly cracks as he sighs, and she closes her eyes. He knows the weight of her words even before she says them. "I'm not going anywhere."

As much as he doesn't want to, Bill steps back, pausing. He's certainly shared his fair share of emotions with her, all of which seem rather trivial now as he stares at her and doesn't know what to make of her. Their hands fall apart as his head bows. Laura allows herself one run through his hair and holds his cheeks. He's silent as he thinks of all the things he wants to say, but instead, doesn't.

"What about--" Bill's hurt eyes stare at her, waiting patiently for her response without even having to finish his thought. She can feel every pore on his textured cheek as well as every single drop of grief emanating from them. _This is his heart,_ she thinks.

"You need me." Laura quietly steals one, two, three quick light kisses across his face before her lips take over his. This time, the kiss is completely different as she takes the lead, giving more than she's ever getting, feeling the slight groan and release in the back of his throat. In the softest of whispers, Laura mumbles so softly against his breath that he thinks he's imagining it, "I love you."

His body stiffens before it relaxes, feeding off the surge of natural energy she's providing. When she pulls back, his head shifts right into the crook of her neck. One arm around him and the other in his hair, she gently plants two small kisses on the side of his head, "Bill?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry about Kara." Her fingers trace circles in Bill's hair, mindlessly working the tension and kinks out without even realizing it as her lips linger against his soft hair. The tears in her eyes are prevalent as she tries to hold her center and not break down in a pile of sobs.

Leoben's voice resonates in her mind, repeating the same message that he has many times before from her stay in detention on New Caprica. Laura finds herself listening without meaning to, as she has so many other times before.

_In the end, your choices will either save or fail you. Life or death, survivor or dying leader. It doesn't matter. Judgment day will come, Laura Roslin. Humanity's final chapter has yet to be written…_


End file.
